


To Hide and Seek the Truth

by softmoonlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: High Republic Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The High Republic: Light of the Jedi - Charles Soule
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jedi Appreciation (Star Wars), Jedi Culture & Tradition (Star Wars), Philosophy, Spoilers, but for real not just 'no bashing', obviously, the last three relationship tags are really minor but i wanted to make em anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29179119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softmoonlight/pseuds/softmoonlight
Summary: On the way to theStarlight Beacon, Bell tries to come to terms with what happened while watching the girl he rescued and the pet he accidentally adopted.
Relationships: Bailen "Bee" Blythe & Bell Zettifar, Ember & Bell Zettifar, Indeera Stokes & Bell Zettifar, Loden Greatstorm & Bell Zettifar, Vernestra Rwoh & Bell Zettifar, Yoda & Bell Zettifar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	To Hide and Seek the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Bell was my favorite part of this book, and Jedi + people interacting with kids and animals are my weakness. Have this somehow angsty fluff as a result.

The little girl wouldn't leave him alone. She insisted on holding his hand the entire time they waited for extraction, and Bell allowed it because she was a kid, she trusted him, and he wasn't a monster. He couldn't help marveling at her presence, actually; though saving her was his job and moral obligation, the wash of her gratitude acted as a balm to his aching numbness. He used it to keep himself moving even as everything he knew fell apart.

Loden hadn't come back. He wouldn't be a knight. Nothing would ever be the same.

Ember seemed to consciously sense his distress, and she kept nosing at his other side until he acquiesced and began running his fingers through her fur over and over. It calmed him too, even if it was just giving the attention vampire what she wanted, as Loden would have said.

The end result was Bell functioning glorified pillow for them both. They remained glued to his side even after everyone had safely boarded the rescuing Longbeam, not moving for hours until Bee abruptly suggested they play a game.

Which was how Bell Zettifar, Jedi padawan, reluctant cliff-jumper, newfound master of aerodynamics, and technically an adult, found himself with his knees tucked against his chest, curled up in a storage locker while a small child hunted him down.

"I'm a bit too old for it," Bee had announced, a bit prissily, "but hide and seek might be fun..."

Bell wasn't fooled. She wanted to play more than she cared to admit. He agreed because he couldn't think of a reason not to.

Not that Bell minded, really. They weren't bad company, and he needed to focus on something else. And he'd be lying if he didn't admit to a small bit of awe that a child had taken to him enough to follow him around like a lost duckling. As for the charhound, at this point he suspected her motives were food-related as always.

He knew Bee needed a distraction too, with her mother and brother's injuries, and father's disappearance. Bell wouldn't call it anything but a disappearance, no matter what Indeera had murmured to him over Bee's head after she landed with the boy, banged up but alive. To call it anything else would mean _two fathers_ died today, and he couldn't—

No. Best not to go there right now.

He couldn't help but feel a bit useless. Everyone else had jobs. Indera and Porter were helping stabilize their respective Blythes, and the Adrens stayed in the cockpit in case the Nihil—or any other raiders, since this _was_ the Outer Rim—came back to finish them off and needed a copilot. Meanwhile, Bell was playing youngling games in a ship that wasn't made for it, scrambling to do something that wouldn't remind him of his master.

Extremely difficult, since anything he thought about could be connected back to his master. For example: the Adrens helped with the Great Disaster in space when he and Loden were on the ground. Or: this Longbeam was en route to the _Starlight Beacon_ , where his master intended to knight him. Or—

Bell caught himself again. He could only imagine Loden's smiling disapproval. Not because he struggled with them at all, but because he pushed it down. Contrary to popular belief, Jedi felt emotions. As empaths though the Force, they even felt them too much sometimes. Letting them fester was the problem.

Loden would have put the _Nova_ in a tailspin, then handed Bell unilateral control, then interrogated him ruthlessly about his emotions even at terminal velocity. The lesson would be about how there were always distractions, and about how you could only guide things once you were in control of yourself, or something.

But Loden was gone.

And so was the _Nova_ , he realized with a sad pang.

He'd never even told him the secret name.

A loud noise jolted him out of his reverie, and he blinked up at Bee's silhouette, eyes adjusting to the sudden light.

"Gotcha!" Bee cried triumphantly, grabbing at him and tugging until he clambered out. He just went along with it, not really processing anything.

Destination hardly mattered anymore when he didn't even have a guide for the journey.

It had only been a few hours, and Bell wasn't ready to let Loden go. He wasn't sure he could. He hadn't seen him die, hadn't felt it, hadn't believed it when he reached for the Force.

At least Indeera didn't seem to fault him for any of it. In fact, she'd left him alone after she delivered the news, understanding he needed time. Not before she sent a reassuring wave of pure warmth through the Force, folding him into a type of hug that only Force-sensitives could feel.

She acted as a litmus test of the others, and in hindsight it was obvious. The other Jedi would be kind to him too. Of course they would.

 _It's okay to feel these things,_ one of the now passed elderly masters had told him as a youngling who'd run off to hide in that area of the temple and sulk. He'd been insecure and jealous of Vern, who was two years younger and naturally better than him at everything. _What matters is that you acknowledge they exist, and do not judge yourself for them. Only then will you be able to let go._

He'd never fully understood that until now. He'd long since gotten over his issues with Vern, even considered her a friend, but the lesson hadn't sunk in.

Stop beating himself up. Acknowledge things. Yes, that was a start.

He stopped abruptly, closed his eyes, and allowed himself this moment.

 _I miss Loden. I'm worried he's dead and I'm in denial. I'm worried what he's enduring if he's_ not _dead._ _I feel guilty for not being there to help. I don't want to be a knight without him. I'm not ready to say any of this out loud.  
_

Nothing immediately, magically changed. His stomach still churned with the weight of it all. But at least he admitted it to himself. At least he could bear to look at Bee and Ember now and actually make an effort to engage them.

Bell checked up his his impromptu charges. They had stopped cold the moment he did and nearly fallen over each other, which would've been funny if the literal _everything else_ about all this wasn't so awful. Bee now clung to his left hand with both of her own, like she was still free-falling, and Ember still had some blood matted in her fur, gross, how had he not noticed that when he petted her? He'd have to clean her when they arrived.

Wait.

Ember was here, but they'd left her tethered in the common area.

"Bee," he said slowly, "did you use my own charhound's sense of smell to find me?"

Bee avoided his gaze with extreme dedication, which was answer enough. "Only a little bit..."

Bell didn't know what to say. On the one hand, it wasn't a big deal. On the other hand, was he supposed to gently admonish her or something? Clearly she knew it was wrong, but did it even matter?

Before he could decide either way, something wet nudged his leg insistently. He looked, finding a much closer Ember blinking up at him with wide, round, imploring eyes, blocking his path in a way that he might go so far as to describe as _strategic_.

Oh. He knew this trick.

"Spoiled," he muttered, nudging her out of the way gently, "but fine. Galley it is."

The charhound jumped up with supernatural speed, wagging her tail so fast it blurred. Bell scratched at her ear despite himself. A long, almost serpentine tongue shot out to lick him, making him squirm at both the extreme warmth of it—since she was a literal firebreather—and that slimy sensation. But Ember was the most harmless extremely dangerous animal he'd ever met, so he didn't pull away.

Looking at her now, he'd never have believed she'd killed a man today if he hadn't seen it happen.

"Eww," Bee whined when Ember started trying to lick her too. Bell grinned. The girl's expression spelled such complete disgust that it was impossible not to.

That gave him an idea, actually. Maybe the gentle admonishment could also be funny.

He bent down and stroked at Ember's ear a little, deceptively nonchalant. Then he goaded her toward Bee with a wave of his hand. "Go get her," he crooned.

Bee jolted and yelled, "Hey!" but Bell only smirked.

Ember didn't need to be told twice. She closed the distance Bee had put between them in a single bound and immediately licked at her face. Since Bee was a much shorter target on account of being nine, Ember succeeded.

"Bell, Bell, make her stopppp!" Bee screeched, but she was spluttering and laughing even as she shoved at Ember halfheartedly.

"I dunno, I think she likes your _scent..._ "

 _"Bell! Okay, okay, okay I'm sorry I cheated, make her stopppp!"_ Still laughing uncontrollably, but he'd made his point.

"Fine, fine—c'mon girl, let's go get food for real."

The magic word sent Ember back to him, panting maniacally. Bell shook his head, wondering how Ember hadn't simply wandered away from the outpost at the first nice person with food, and actually made for the galley this time. An overeager Ember did her best to nick his heel with every step, an impressive feat, and Bee trailed them at a distance, sulking, more for the show of it than anything.

Only once Ember was gnawing away at some freeze-dried meat did Bee approach again. She wore that thousand-yard stare again.

Bell bit his lip. No kid should ever have that look, but he wasn't sure he was the best person to handle this. He was still working things out for himself.

Bee opened her mouth. Hesitated. Then, barely audible: "What do you think happened to them?"

The very question he hoped to avoid by distracting her.

Now it was Master Yoda's voice in his head, cackling. _Sometimes, not very subtle is the will of the Force. Perhaps, destined to be the one to teach this lesson, you are.  
_

Okay, so he was doing this. What was it that people did when talking to kids about extremely serious things? Pitch their voice soft? Tell them a lie to protect their innocence? Crouch on their eye level? How was he supposed to do this when he honestly didn't believe his master was dead?

He did crouch, but opted for honesty, even if she was very young. She'd experienced this too, no point in hiding it. They'd thrown her out of an _airborne ship_ , for stars' sake.

"I don't know," he said. "The Nihil are awful people, and they seem to _like_ that we don't know what they'll do. It's possible our family's alive...but we need to prepare for if they're not."

But with every word he spoke, that nagging feeling that his master wasn't gone in the same way as Ottoh Blythe intensified. He and Loden were close enough to each other when it supposedly happened. As his padawan, he should have felt it. But then, Indeera said he died, and perhaps this doubt was Bell continuing to not face his emotions as much as he thought he had. But that didn't feel right, either.

 _Focus. Not important right now. Give the advice like they_ are _both gone, because you need to hear it too._

In front of him, single tear ran down the girl's cheek, and Bell's heart wrenched. He remembered the missing ingredient then, and it didn't apply to just kids. Platitudes that could sometimes mean everything.

"See those stars?"

Bee's gaze followed where he pointed at a tiny viewport. "Yeah..."

"Remember that the Force is in everything—those stars, you, me, each of our missing family—and you can never lose that. In a way, your father will always be with you, because, alive or dead, he is part of the Force, and so are you, and the Force connects us all."

It wasn't much. It probably didn't carry the same weight for non Force-sensitives. But it was the comfort he could offer. It left both possibilities open, but with a sense of finality. It was _something_.

Based on Bee's suddenly enraptured focus on the stars, it meant more than that, which was all that mattered.

If nothing else, Bell hoped he'd at least made a difference today.

**Author's Note:**

> -By the time they actually reach the Beacon, depending on the perspective, Bell either 1. starts to suspect the truth (reader pov/dramatic irony) or 2. reverts to denial (in-universe pov)
> 
> -I took out my frustrations on certain fanon portrayals of Jedi and also two passages from this book itself (the bit about purging emotions, and the bit about a pet being some sort of fatal attachment, which it is not lmao). You would think literal canon content creators would understand this, but alas.


End file.
